Sweet Tea & Cigarettes

Chapter 2

By sunset, the entire town knew.

That was the thing about Bellrose. You could sneeze on one side of the town and

somebody’s grandmother would bless you from three streets over. So by the time

sheriff’s deputies blocked off the diner with yellow tape, people had already gathered

across the highway pretending not to stare.

But everybody stared. Mags sat on the hood of Darlene’s old chevy truck with a

paper cup of cold coffee in her hands while blue lights flashed across the parking lot.

The summer air felt thick enough to choke on. Deputies moved in and out of the diner

carrying equipment while Sheriff Wallace stood near the entrance talking quietly with

the county coroner. Nobody had covered the hole yet. Mags kept accidentally looking

toward it. She kept seeing the bones every time she blinked.

“You gonna drink that or just hold it hostage?”

Mags glanced up.

Beau stood beside the truck now, grease still streaked across his forearms from

the garage. Sometime during the past few hours he’d changed shirts, but he still looked

wrecked. Pale. Tight around the eyes. Like somebody had hollowed him out from the

inside.

Mags looked back down at her coffee. “Forgot it existed”

“Yeah..”

That one word carried exhaustion all by itself.

Silence settled between them. Not comfortable. Not awkward either. Just heavy.

Across the parking lot, a cluster of townspeople whispered near the gas station.

Mags recognized every single one of them. Mrs. Greene from the church choir. Billy

Watson pretending to pump gas for twenty straight minutes. Three teenage girls sitting

on the hood of a Jeep watching the diner like it was reality television. Bellrose loved

tragedy as long as it belonged to somebody else.

“You should go home.” Mags said quietly.

Beau laughed once under his breath. “No offense, Mags, but finding my dead father under your diner floor kinda

ruined my evening plans.”

Her chest tightened immediately.

Right. Stupid thing to say.

“I didn’t mean -”

“I know”

His voice softened just enough to hurt.

A deputy ducked beneath the caution tape carrying a small evidence box. Beau’s

entire body tensed. Mags noticed.

“You okay?”

“Fantastic.”

“You look homicidal.”

“I’m considering it.”

That almost sounded like the Beau she remembered. Almost. A warm breeze

pushed through the parking lot carrying the smell of rain and motor oil. Somewhere

down the road, thunder rumbled softly. Mags watched Beau rub both hands over his

face roughly before leaning against the truck beside her. For a second neither of them

spoke.

Then -

“You really came back for good?”

The question caught her off guard.

Mags picked at the peeling label on her coffee cup. “Probably”

“Probably?”

“My life in Nashville imploded.”

“That bad?”

“Worse”

He looked over at her then listened open-mindedly. Which somehow made it

even harder.

“My landlord changed the locks,” she admitted. “My boyfriend was sleeping with

his yoga instructor and I had thirty-seven dollars in my bank account.”

Beau linked slowly “Damn.”

“Yeah.” “You punch him?”

“The boyfriend?”

“Obviously.”

Mags finally smiled a little. “I threw a candle at his head”

“There she is.”

Something warm flickered briefly across Beau’s face. Not quite happiness. But

close enough to make her stomach twist.

The diner door opened suddenly behind them. Sheriff Wallace stepped outside

holding a clear plastic evidence bag. The silver watch sat inside of it. Even across the

parking lot, Mags saw Beau go rigid beside her. Sheriff Wallace approached carefully.

The man looked older than Mags remembered. Greyer around the temples. Permanent

lines carved into his forehead from years of dealing with Bellrose drama.

“Beau,” he said gently

Beau didn’t answer.

Wallace held up the bag slightly. “You recognize this?”

The question felt ridiculous. Everybody recognized it. Ray Calloway wore that

watch every day for almost twenty years. Mags remembered being ten years old and

sitting in the Calloway’s kitchen while Ray flipped pancakes on Saturday mornings

with that silver watch glinting under the lights.

Beau swallowed hard beside her.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “It’s his.”

The sheriff nodded once. “I’m sorry.”

Beau looked away immediately. Like the words physically hurt him.

Sheriff Wallace shifted awkwardly before clearing his throat.

“We’ll need an official statement tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Beau repeated

“There’s gonna be reporters sniffing around once all this hits the news.”

“Great.”

“Might also wanna stay off social media tonight,” Wallace added. “Bellrose

Facebook groups already think there’s a serial killer.”

Mags snorted despite herself. Bellrose f*******: groups were genuinely more

terrifying than actual crime. The sheriff finally left them alone again. The parking lot fell quiet except for distant thunder and the hum of neon signs from the gas station

across the road. Then Beau spoke again,

“So.”

Mags looked over.

“You still smoke when you’re stressed?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You used to steal cigarettes outta Darlene’s purse and sit on the roof of the

diner when you were upset.”

Mags stared at him. “You remember that?”

“You almost fell off the roof twice.”

“That’s not the point.”

A tiny shrug lifted one shoulder.

“You remember things.”

Her chest ached unexpectedly because she remembered things too. Everything

honestly. Beau teaching her to drive in his father’s truck. Beau holding her hand

behind the football bleachers senior year. Beau standing on her porch the night before

she left town, looking like he wanted to say something but decided not to.

Thunder cracked louder overhead. Fat raindrops started hitting the pavement.

One. Two. Then all at once. Pain poured across the parking lot. In heavy silver sheets.

Deputies cursed and scrambled toward their vehicles while townspeople ran for cover.

Darlene yelled something from the diner doorway about pie tins being left outside.

Mags laughed before she could stop herself. Beside her, Beau stared out at the rain

with something unreadable in his eyes.

“You know,” she said carefully, “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

His jaw tightened instantly.

“I’ve been dealing with it alone for fifteen years.”

The words landed hard. Mags opened her mouth then closed it again.

“What could I possibly say to that?” She thought

Rain hammered the roof of the truck. Lightning flashed across the sky and for

the first time since coming home, Mags realized something terrifying.

Ray Calloway never left Bellrose. Which meant someone in town knew exactly what happened to him and maybe

always had.